Chapter Four
Steve leaned against the door jam, resisting the urge to close his eyes. Emily hadn't moved from her seat next to Carter's bed, her hands wrapped around his as he slept. The surgery had gone well and the doctors expected him to make a full recovery but that didn't stop Em from worrying.
"She should leave," Sharon huffed, arms crossed over her chest as she appeared at Steve's elbow. "He doesn't even know she's there."
"Don't think that's the point," Steve sighed, glancing over at the agent beside him. She was dressed in slacks and a button down shirt, sleeves rolled to her elbows, and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. It shouldn't have been a surprise that she was working late given her current assignment with Special Services; being placed in the White House didn't exactly leave much time for relaxing.
"There's no use sleeping in an uncomfortable chair when they don't even expect him to wake up tonight. All it's going to earn her is a sore neck and back."
"You want her to leave?" Steve asked, his eyebrow twitching upward.
"No, Cart would kill me if I kicked her out. Just…"
"Don't worry," he said, pushing off the wall. "I get it. Family."
Sharon's eyes, which had been fixed on Carter, shot to the floor before drifting up to meet Steve's. "Thanks."
"No problem," he gave her a tired smile before clapping her shoulder and stepping into the room.
"If you need anything, Neal is at my place and he can let you in."
"You still with Tapper?" Steve asked. When she cocked her eyebrow at him he held up his hands. "Sorry, just think you can do better than him."
"How many other people are going to understand when someone comes up to me on the street and starts talking to Lindsay?" She sighed, "I don't have to pretend with him. He know to play along if someone comes up to me on the street and calls me Kate."
"You could find a civilian," Steve assured her, glancing over at where Em slept. "It's harder, but if you're happy..."
"Em's not exactly a civvy," before glancing at Carter. "How many other people aren't going to question when you have to run to the hospital because your cousin was nearly killed 'cause of work?"
"Doc said he's going to be fine, Sharon. Carter's just going to have to take it easy for a bit. And," he paused for a moment before his eyes slid back to Em's slumped form, "being with a civilian? It's not as bad as you make it sound."
A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as she watched Em and Carter sleep. "I'm not exactly sure she counts."
OOO
"Sharon said to help yourself to anything you need from her apartment," Steve said as he trailed behind Em as she slowly made her way up the stairs to his place. He'd offered to carry her up the three flights but she insisted on doing it herself, which left him behind her with one hand reached out to steady her just in case she stumbled or tilted backwards on her crutches.
"Okay," Em yawned before grimacing as the scabs forming on her face pulled. When they reached the landing, he stepped in front of her and dug out his keys, quickly undoing the lock and throwing the door open for her. He flipped on the light as she stepped inside for the second time since he'd rented the apartment from S.H.I.E.L.D., the crutches clicked as she moved. Em frowned as the rubber moved against her skin, trying to move as quickly as she could when she caught Steve checking the clock on the wall.
She hadn't wanted to leave the hospital but when Steve insisted, she'd gone along with it. He'd assured her that they would come back in the morning, and Sharon had chimed in to say she'd call if anything changed. Em had glanced back as she left the room in time to see Sharon sink into her vacated seat and clutch Carter's hand.
"I can get something going if you want to take a shower," Steve said as the moved towards the living room. He tossed the bag containing her jeans - a nurse had been nice enough to give her a pair of scrub pants so they didn't have to cut the skinny jeans open to get to her ankle for the x-Ray and to wrap it - onto the arm chair as she moved towards the couch.
"Coffee would be great," Em sighed as she propped the crutches against the wall and collapsed.
"No, you don't need coffee. You need to sleep tonight."
"One cup will not keep me up," she countered. Steve eyed her for a moment before starting to make a pot of coffee - if nothing else, he wanted a cup. The caffeine wouldn't do anything for him, another unfortunate effect of the serum, but it was a comfort thing. "Thanks. And a shower sounds great."
"I'll toss your clothes in the wash if you want," he offered.
"I knew I loved you for a reason," Em teased before yawning again. "Gonna join?"
"Gimme a minute and I'll be in."
Once she'd hobbled out of the room, Steve pulled out his cell and sent a text saying he would be in to debrief and get some answers in two hours. It was enough time to get Em to relax and hopefully sleep, and line up someone to sit with her for the evening; he already had someone in mind for the second part but needed to make sure they were free.
Steve heard the shower going as he pushed off the counter and dropped the phone next to the coffee pot before going to join her. Em was still struggling to get undressed when he came into the bathroom so he helped her out of her clothes and bundled them up to be tossed into the washer later. He had her sit on the closed toilet and crouched in front of her to get the air cast off of her ankle, and spent a minute gently touching the bruises there, tracing what looked like finger marks, before running his hands up her legs and stopping just below her hips. Steve thumbed the smaller bruises and shook his head. "I wish you'd stayed home."
Above him, Em sighed and carded her hand through his hair, gently tugging so that he'd look up and meet her gaze. "We can't change it," she said softly before leaning down to press her lips to his. "No use regretting it." Even as she said the words, he could see the tears gathering in her eyes.
"Stop," he said, his voice echoing through the small bathroom. "Don't, please? We're okay." Em shook her head and leaned down to press her face into his shoulder as she closed her eyes tightly against the tears. "It's okay, Sweetheart," Steve said as he slipped an arm under her knees and around her back, lifting her easily. It took a bit of maneuvering before he was able to pull back the shower curtain and, disregarding his uniform, stepped into the spray. He stood, pressing kisses into Em's hair as the mud on his boots washed down the drain before setting her on her feet. "Come on," he said, pushing away the strands of hair from her face and tilting her head up. "Let's clean up and get you to bed."
"You're getting all wet," she said, her face splotchy as she turned to angle the shower head away from them.
"Doesn't matter," he taking a step closer and crowding her back into the water. He watched as she tilted her head back, her breasts pulling up as she ran her fingers through her hair. And, as tired as he was, Steve felt his cock twitch with interest. Infinitely aware of her bruises, Steve reached for her and wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her flush against him and pressing his lips to her. The rush of knowing that she was okay, knowing that she was going to be safely on her way home in the morning where he'd get a second chance at that proposal, was crashing over him.
Speaking of… Steve unclipped one of the holsters on his belt and withdrew that little velvet covered box, drawing Em's attention to it as she raised an eyebrow.
"Really? In the shower?"
"No, not in the shower," he smirked, palming the box and holding it out of the water. "Just didn't want it to get all wet."
"Can I…?" Emily asked, her eyes making a circuit from his hand to his eyes and back again.
"You want to?" he raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah! Wait - no. Maybe?" she frowned. Steve chuckled and bent to kiss her again. "No, no, I'm good," Em said with her eyes closed.
"You sure?"
"Something should be a surprise when you propose again."
"Again?" he smirked. "I haven't proposed to you yet."
"You know what I mean," she said, gently hitting his chest. "Keep it up and the ring won't be the only surprise - my answer could be a shocker."
"Oh yeah?" Steve chuckled.
"Yeah," she retorted. He smiled and turned them so that her back was pressed against the wall before dropping to his knees. Em's eyebrows shot up. "You said not in the shower!"
"I did," he nodded, switching the box to his right hand and reaching outside the tub to drop it to the floor. "I didn't say anything about changing your mind though." Steve pressed her hips back against the wall before taking her left, injured leg and putting it over his shoulder. "And I think I can be very persuasive."
"Oh?" she smirked before he ducked his head. "Oh."
OOO
Steve ran a hand through Em's damp hair as she slept, curled into him with her head tucked under his chin and her hand fisted in his shirt. He fought the urge to fall asleep with her, her breath against his chest lulling him into a stupor even as he stared at the clock to make sure he hadn't nodded off.
There was a soft knocking on the front door that startled Steve and, a quick glance at the clock showed him that he'd slept for almost half an hour. Emily moaned as he moved, her eyebrows furrowing as she flexed her hand in his shirt. "Sorry," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead before flipping the blankets off of himself.
"Stay," she mumbled.
"I've got to go in," he said softly, gently breaking her hold. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"
Em sighed softly before moving her leg off of him - she'd been using him to elevate her ankle - and tilting her face up, her bleary eyes opening to meet his. "Je t'aime."
"Je t'aime aussi," he smiled and kissed her.
"Ass," she muttered against his lips as she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer.
"Can't," Steve said. "Gotta go." As if to punctuate this, there was another knock.
"Who's that?" Em asked, her voice hitching slightly as she looked towards the bedroom door.
"Natasha."
"Nat?" she frowned.
"Thought she'd be better to be here tonight than an agent you don't know."
"I thought she was overseas." Steve shook his head and got out of bed, tugging the blankets back into place before smoothing down his jeans and tugging his white t-shirt back into place. He would change into his spare uniform at S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Got back earlier in the week. Doll, go back to sleep," he said as she rolled to the edge of the bed and blindly slapped for her glasses. When she found them, Em held up the frames and looked at the spidered cracks, then frowned before setting them back on the bedside table.
"That'd be rude," she sighed, sitting up and stifling a yawn. As she put her feet on the floor, Steve walked around the bed and gently pushed her back down.
"I'm sure she'd understand." When there was another knock, Steve glanced at the door and then back to his girl. He reached over her and grabbed his pillow, lifting her aircast encased ankle and placing it on the pillow before rearranging the covers. "Go back to sleep," he said, his lips hovering over hers. Emily closed the distance between them and nodded, her fingers scrubbing the five o'clock shadow he was sporting before settling back into the mattress.
"Love you."
"Love you too."
OOO
"Morning."
Natasha Romanoff regarded Emily over the rim of her coffee cup as she leaned over the counter, propped up on her elbows. "Morning," she replied, lips twitching into a half smile. "Sleep well?"
"Probably better than you did," Em shrugged, looking over at the couch where a stack of blankets was neatly folded and stacked.
"I doubt that," Natasha said, taking in the dark circles under the other woman's eyes before assuring her, "I've had a lot worse beds." Her eyes flickered down to Em's hand and raised an eyebrow. "What did you think of the house?"
Huffing, Em hobbled to the empty armchair and collapsed into it, propping the crutches against the wall before answering, "Did everyone know about it?"
"He wanted opinions," the other woman shrugged. "I thought it was cute."
"What'd you think of the house?"
"I thought it was nice but...you seem like the suburban type."
"Are you saying you see me as a soccer mom?" Em smirked. Nat smiled and poured a second cup of coffee before retrieving the sugar bowl and creamer, moving around the kitchen with the ease of familiarity.
"Would you prefer being the hands off, socialite mother?" the redhead asked as she walked into the living room and handed the mug to Em and put the sugar and creamer on the coffee table.
"God no," she smiled around the rim of her coffee mug. "So that was a no on the house?"
"Nice, but over the top. I'm guessing you felt the same."
"Pretty much. So have we heard anything from the hospital?"
"Agent Falsworth is awake and was asking for you. I can take you there before you leave."
"And when did Steve schedule that for?"
"One. There's a group of specialists in training going to the Academy for the war games."
"Ah," Em nodded, "I'd forgotten that that was this week." Steve had talked a great deal about that over wine a few weeks ago; the thought of using his battle tested knowledge and strategic experience against up and coming Army officers at West Point had been something he was very much looking forward to. "Are you going?"
"That wouldn't be fair to any of them," Natasha shrugged. "I brought you a change of clothes if you want to get ready. They're expecting you at the office in an hour."
One of the best things about Natasha is that she didn't hover. After watching Em sling the duffle bag over her should, she stood back and watched her hobble back to the bedroom to get changed. Another awesome thing about Nat is that she remembers the little things like eyeliner and a new bra (although Em wasn't sure how Nat had gotten her sizes).
"Hey, Nat?" Em called as she pulled a black t-shirt from the bag.
"Yeah?"
"Merde!" Em jumped, holding the shirt to her chest as the door swung open. An amused smirk crossed Nat's face as she leaned against the doorjam. Rolling her eyes, she reached into the duffle and pulled out a handful of black material, "What're these?"
"Padding for your crutches. Believe me, you'll want them." She stepped into the room and held her hand out for them and Em obliged. It took a matter of moments until the crutches were fixed and Em was dressed.
OOO
"Can I get you anything to drink, Dr. Harthorn?" Agent Sitwell asked as Emily settled into a high backed rolling chair and propped up her crutches beside her.
"Some water would be great," she said. He walked to the other side of the conference room and retrieved a bottle for her before sitting across from her. Sitwell reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved an audio recorder and held it up for her to see.
"Standard procedure," he explained before hitting the record button. "This is Agent Jasper Sitwell conducting the debriefing of Dr. Harthorn regarding Incident AC13702. Now, Dr. Harthorn, could you please state your full name, date of birth, and current employer and occupation for the record?"
"Um...Emily Rose Harthorn, born March 15, 1986. And I am currently employed by Empire State University as a lecturing professor for the history department."
"Thank you. And what is your relationship to Captain Rogers?"
Em cocked an eyebrow, "We're dating."
"How long have you been dating?"
"About a year."
"So your relationship began while you were employed by S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"Yes."
"And can you explain what your job was?"
"I was hired to help Steve adjust and to catch him up on what had happened over the last 70 years."
"So your relationship began when you were employed to be his teacher?"
"You could say that, although the job was explained to me as being more of a friendly assistance in a transition rather than solely being a teacher." Sitwell looked like he wanted to say something when she'd said 'friendly assistance' but bit his tongue.
"Could you please explain what you were doing in Arlington National Cemetery last night?"
"I was there with Steve and Carter to see the damage done to Steve's grave."
"You were with Captain Rogers and Agent Falsworth?"
"Yes, sorry. Should I be using official titles?"
"I just need you to be as detailed as possible. According to our records, you weren't supposed to be on this mission. Can you explain why you were?"
"I...asked to come."
"You asked?"
"Yeah."
"I have other witnesses that say that you demanded to come along even after you were informed that you didn't have the necessary clearance."
"Cart - Agent Falsworth assured me that my security clearance was still in place and that I was still listed as a consultant," Em frowned down at the bottle of water before unscrewing the cap and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger.
"When you terminated your contract with S.H.I.E.L.D. your clearance should have been revoked," he scowled, making a note on his pad of paper. "We'll make sure that's oversight is taken care of. What were you doing prior to being informed about what had happened in Arlington?"
"That's private."
"We need it for the record, Dr. Harthorn," Sitwell pressed. Emily raised an eyebrow and glanced around, wishing that Natasha hadn't been pulled away for a consultation.
"Steve and I went out to dinner and then looked at a house before going to the Promenade."
"Where?
"Excuse me?"
"Where did you look at the house?"
"Brooklyn Heights. You can ask Steve for the exact address if you'd like."
"I will. How long have you and Captain Rogers been looking at houses?"
"Is that really pertinent information?" Emily scoffed.
"Please answer the question."
She scowled but replied, "A couple months."
Sitwell nodded and made another note before his eyes drifted up to meet hers again. "You are aware that your being on the mission compromised the efficiency of the STRIKE team and that two men are dead because of that?"
Emily closed her hand around the bottle cap, feeling the plastic bite into her the meat of her hand. When she opened her mouth to reply, the door behind her opened.
"Starting without me?" Steve asked as he stepped into the room. Em twisted in her seat to see him but caught the slight frown on Sitwell's face.
"Just the preliminaries," Sitwell shrugged. Steve gave him an unimpressed look while Emily's mouth opened in shock.
"You okay?" Steve asked her as he leaned down to kiss her cheek, putting a cup of coffee in front of her. She placed her hand on his Kevlar protected waist, fingers falling into the grooves of his uniform.
"Comme ci, comme ça," she shrugged. "You?"
"Tired," he answered while sitting next to her. Under the table, he reached over to put his hand on her knee before nodding to the recorder on the table. "Is the biometric reader really necessary?"
"Standard procedure," Sitwell snapped, "can we continue?"
The questions were less personal from then on. Sitwell asked Emily about how they got to the cemetery as Steve sipped his coffee, and he cleared his throat when Sitwell asked about the less than professional communication over the open comm lines. "That was tame compared to your ops," he muttered.
But when the questioning turned to what happened with she was separated from Carter, Steve went still. His hand stayed on her knee but he looked straight ahead as she recounted her flight with Agent Kistner. When her voice broke and she had to stop talking to take a long slip of her coffee as she fight back tears, Steve's hand twitched and his thumb ran along the seam of her jeans.
When she talked about being caught underneath the car, Steve seemed to have stopped breathing. Emily felt his eyes on her but spoke to the table as she recounted the events of the night.
"And I begged him not to shoot me," Em said softly. "And he just looked at me with these dead eyes for a minute before he...he shot someone over my head."
"That would have been Agent Kistner," Sitwell said as he flipped through a file to consult something. "His body was found close to the parking lot." Emily gulped and reached up to wipe away a rogue tear, still ignoring the looks Steve was giving her. "Can you describe what the assailant looked like?"
"H-he had blue eyes and chin length dark hair. And he had a mask," Em said, abandoning the coffee cup to hold her hand up across the bridge of her nose, "It covered most of his face, from here down. And..."
"And?"
"His arm. It...it looked like a metal prosthetic. But way stronger - he used that arm to tear off the door. And the articulation was amazing." Her mind flashed to an engineering student she'd dated in undergrad who had gone on and on about the ability of metal to flex.
"Did he say anything to you?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "It sounded Eastern European - maybe Russian? 'Oh be gret' or something similar to that."
Sitwell frowned and cocked his head to the side, "Yбегать?"
"Yeah, that," Em nodded, her eyes darting up to meet his and then Steve's.
"Doesn't that...he told you to run away?" Steve asked. Sitwell glanced down at the biometric recording device before jotting something in his notepad.
"I...I don't know. He left after he said that and I took off for the museum," she said, finally reaching down to cover his hand with hers. Steve flipped his hand over and threaded his fingers through hers, squeezing tightly as he gave her an encouraging look.
"And that's where Captain Rogers found you before taking you to the hospital?" Sitwell asked.
"Yes."
"Your medical records state that you have a sprained ankle, multiple abrasions to your face, and bruises to your torso and ankle. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Do you have anything to add to your statement?" Emily glanced over at Steve before shaking her head.
"No, I don't think so."
"Okay. Thank you, Dr. Harthorn. We'll be in contact with any additional questions."
OOO
"Finally," Carter huffed in a raspy voice as Emily came into his hospital room. He gave her a critical look before grinning, "You look like shit, love."
"So do you," she chucked as she made her way to his bedside. Sharon stood up and moved across the room to lean against the wall, watching the exchange with a smirk.
"You alright?" Carter asked as she leaned down to kiss his cheek.
"Fine. What about you?"
"Bullet nicked my carotid artery but the docs said I should be back on my feet in a week."
"Two," Sharon corrected. "And that's at the earliest." Her cousin waved offer her words before giving her a wry grin.
"Em, try not to startle her but look - that's Sharon's concerned expression. This may be the only time you see it!" Sharon flipped him off before turning her attention to Steve. They struck up a conversation as Em sat on the edge of his bed and took his hand in hers; Carter squeezed it tightly.
"You scared me last night," she said quietly.
"Sorry, darling, was never my intention. What about you? Why the torture devices?" he asked, motioning to the crutches.
"Sprained ankle."
"Ooh," he hissed, "you're commute to work is going to be a pleasant experience."
"Don't remind me," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "What are the odds that they'd let me Skype in for class?"
"Weren't they saying you need to incorporate technology into your class? Perfect opportunity!" They laughed until he grimaced as his stitches pulled.
"When are you going to go home?" Emily asked.
"As soon as possible. I don't fancy staying at Sharon's with her charming bed companion. I'm sure he's got some attributes that make her keep him around but his personality isn't one of them." Sharon broke off her conversation long enough to flip him off again.
"Let me know when you do, okay? You can stay at the Tower with me until you're on your feet."
"Will we braid one another's hair and trade gossip about our favorite pop stars? Ow!" He grabbed his arm as she swatted him, "Hitting the injured? Your mother taught you better than that!"
Grinning, Emily swatted him again and chuckled, ignoring the twinge of pain from her scraped face. "I don't know why I put up with you."
"Because you're madly in love with me. And one day you'll realize it and it'll be too late because I'll be with my supermodel wife and, believe me love, I'll look back fondly on our tragic unrequited love affair, but frankly you are no Miranda Kerr."
"I knew you watched the Victoria Secret Fashion Show with me for a reason!"
"That reason is very obvious - beautiful, scantily clad women. And here I thought you were the smart one."
"Ever the charmer."
"Hey," Steve said, breaking away from Sharon and joining them. "I hate to do this, but you've got a flight to catch, Emily."
Nodding, Em turned back to Carter. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"
"I will. Hopefully they'll let me go home soon. Take care of yourself, alright?"
"I will," she promised. "You do the same. And no harassing the nurses."
"You wound me! A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone." Em looked over to meet Sharon's eyes, and the other woman shrugged.
"He's behaved so far."
"So far," Em echoed and raised an eyebrow at Carter. "Make sure it stays that way."
OOO
Steve's hands were clenched on the steering wheel as they watched the flight crew prepare the quinjet. "You're going to be okay at home, right?"
"I'll be fine," Em nodded, turning to face him; he had a thousand mile stare as he looked over the assembled specialists. When she reached over to put a hand on his forearm, he startled and met her gaze while putting his gloved hand over hers. "You're not coming, are you?"
He shook his head, "I have to find out what happened. I have to know what they were testing us for."
"Okay, just swear that you'll be careful." Steve smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"I swear. You'll take it easy?"
"As much as I can," she nodded.
"Just...stay at home as much as you can, okay?" he asked. "I don't...You're…With this? I don't know what's going on."
"I promise, work and then home. It's not like I can go to my dance class or the gym with this anyways," she smirked, lifting her air casted ankle and wiggling her toes. His eyes danced down her jean encased leg before shooting up to meet her eyes. "Come home soon?"
"I will," he said. "As soon as I have some answers."
"Sooner."
"When I know you're safe."
"Before that."
"No." Something hardened in his eyes before they flicked away to focus on the steering wheel. "I'm not bringing this home."
"Well then figure it out soon," Em sighed. "I sleep a lot better with you there." A genuine smile flickered across his lips as he pictured her sleeping diagonally across their bed when he got home late at night; she did it on purpose so that he would wake her up getting in and let her know he was there.
"I'll try."
"Do better than try."
"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, leaning across the center console. She leaned over and slanted her lips over his, her hand resting against his cheek.
"Love you," she said against his lips.
"Love you, too."
"Be careful?"
"Always." Her eyes darted across his to make sure he was sincere before she kissed him again. He tipped his head towards the plane with they broke apart, "Let's get you settled in."
Steve got out of the car and hurried around to open her door, taking the crutches she handed him and holding them steady as she stepped out. He kept to her slower pace as they approached the plane, his hand spanning her lower back until they reached the ramp.
A few specialists eyed her with open curiosity as Emily awkwardly made her way towards an empty jump seat, trying to avoid the minefield of bags, guns, and stretched out legs. When they noticed Steve, however, the young men and women straighten up and cleared the path, the rambunctious muttering dropping to a hushed conversation.
"This plane actually plans on landing in West Point, right?" Emily asked as Steve crouched in front of her as he did up the buckles comprising her seat belt. He gave Em her favorite crooked smile as he shook his head.
"You're never going to forgive me for that one, are you?"
"Our grandkids are going to hear about it." Steve's hands stilled, the last buckle half clicked into place as he looked up to meet her eyes.
"I like the sound of that."
"You better." With a snap, she was secured in her seat and Steve rocked back onto his heels before standing. He laid the crutches at her feet and nudged them to slide beneath the row of seating with his foot before leaning down to kiss her.
"I'll see you soon."
"Okay."
"Promise me - work and then home."
"Work and then home, I promise."
"Okay."
"Okay." Steve seemed reluctant to leave Emily, and she wasn't thrilled at the thought of leaving him behind. "Don't try to do this by yourself," she said.
"I won't."
Emily pressed her lips together and nodded as the whine of the engines started before jerking her head towards the ramp. "Go," she said, "I'll be fine and you have work to do."
Steve's rolled his lips before nodding, "Home, as soon as I can."
"Good, we've got a discussion to finish." When a woman settled in the vacant seat to Em's right, they glanced at her before he reached down to smooth Em's hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"I'll see you soon."
"Je t'aime, mon coeur."
"Je t'aime, mon ange." Before her eyes, Emily watched as Steve became Captain America - his shoulders squared, pulling up to his full height, and his face set in a stern expression - as he took a step backwards. Even his gait was different as he walked away, nodding to the specialists as he went; Steve had a relaxed walk and swung his arms while Captain America kept his shoulders tense, arms barely swinging at all, and clenched and unclenched his fists.
When the woman beside her eyes her curiously, Emily closed her eyes and sat back in her seat, ready to spend the short flight mentally preparing for her classes tomorrow.
Author's Note: Hey guys, sorry for the lack of posting. I've been pretty busy with the tail end of Orientation, the start of the summer semester, and planning my move. I'm actually on vacation now in Nebraska getting everything taken care of for my move at the end of the month (apartment, furnishing, meeting the new department, job hunting, etc.)
Anyways, thanks for reading. Just quick translations - Em says she's so-so when Steve asks how she's doing, she uses the endearment "my heart" and he uses "my angel". Je t'aime means 'I love you'. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please let me know what you think!